The Dragonlord's Son
by Mercury Grimm
Summary: Six years on, and Merlin and Balinor have disappeared. Arthur's stuck in Camelot with a father who still hates magic, and a sister who's terrified of what she's becoming. That is, until a very familiar face appears in Camelot, captured and accused of practicing magic. Platonic Merthur. Sequel to Dragonlord
1. Chapter 1

_First of all, thanks to all my awesome reviewers of_ Dragonlord. _All your comments were really appreciated._

 _As always, I own nothing._

It was almost eerily silent. There was no birdsong to indicate life in the forest, no movement or rusting of bushes that suggested that rodents lived among the fallen branches, not even a breath of wind to stir the leave on the trees above. For all he knew, Arthur could be the last person on earth. He took a step forward, his lightweight boots making a slight crunching noise as they moved forward through the dried leaves and branches that littered the forest floor. It was still dark, but the dawn was not far away, he knew. However, he knew that he needed to be ready _before_ the sunrise to make his appearance. He tilted his head to the side, straining his ears, and could just barely make out the sounds of running water some ways to his right - which he hoped was the same river that he remembered. If it wasn't, he was in trouble.

After a quick search, he found a tree that had branches relatively low to the ground and would be easy to scale, and easily clambered up it's trunk, wedging his boots one at a time into forks in the branches to boost himself higher. The wind had picked up a little, brushing gently through the leaves around him and caressing his hair, pulling it away from his face. He clambered higher, trying to force himself from looking down as fear curled in his stomach. He had never had a great head for heights. It was one thing to look out from a tower window - it was quite another to actually be in danger of falling. Finally, he poked his head over the top of the surrounding trees, and his gaze stretched to the horizon, where the sun was beginning to make an appearance.

He shifted position slightly in an attempt to make himself more comfortable in the fork he was currently wedged in, and tilted his head up, waiting.

Nothing.

No sound.

Still, he waited, until the sun was poking up over the tops of the trees. Then, he let out a high, trilling whistle, and waited. A minute later, he did it again. _Come on, Merlin. Answer. I know you're up for the sunrise. Come on,_ please.

An answering whistle came from a nearby tree, and Arthur's head jerked towards the sound, a grin spreading over his face, but a second later, a small bird had taken flight from the place the noise had come from, and Arthur sagged. He tried the whistle again, and several birds called back before taking off into the sky. Arthur did the whistle again, desperately, but with more birds waking, he wouldn't be able to tell if one of them was Merlin.

"Merlin!" he yelled, pleading silently with his friend to show himself. "MERLIN!"

Nothing. No reply.

Arthur sat frozen in place until the sun had risen above the treetops, his breath catching in his throat. What was he supposed to do now? Merlin had told him to call at dawn should he ever come back. And he had. But there was no reply, only the steadily growing noises of the forest during the day. Birds chirped and flitted through the trees. The wind, which had picked up substantially since he had first arrived, now tossed the highest branches to and fro, until Arthur didn't feel safe clinging to their branches, and slowly made his way down.

It was much easier to see in the shade of the trees now than it had been before. The pine needles below his feet crunched delicately with each step, as he moved towards the place he could hear the river running. It was several minutes before he found it - it was further away than he had expected, and tucked away so neatly that it was nearly impossible to find unless you stumbled into it - literally. The river was narrow here, much narrower than Arthur remembered it, but he was probably further downstream than the cave. He scowled down at his boots - which had been soaked as he stumbled into the river, (he now stood up to his knees in quickly-moving water). He began moving upstream, heading towards the mountain he had sat upon with Merlin all those years ago.

His nose was running. He growled in frustration as he rubbed it with his sleeve, only for it to continue. Shivering slightly in the shade of the trees, he continued upstream in the river, as it was easier than trying to maneuver through the dense trees.

It was a good half hour before he saw something he recognized. It was only a bend in the river, but as he turned his head, he caught sight of a tumbling pile of rocks that he remembered. Moving a little faster, he made his way upstream, finally reaching the cave. He let out a shout of delight, splashing out of the river and running up to the cave's entrance, heedless of the fact that he was slipping and sliding in his wet boots.

He reached the cave and stumbled into it, calling out eagerly for Merlin, for Balinor. But there was no glimmer of candlelight in the cave, no sign that anybody was living there. Arthur ventured deeper into the cave, his shoes making soft scuffling noises on the rock floor. He was surrounded by darkness on all sides when he finally found a sign that his time with Merlin and Balinor all those years ago hadn't been a dream. His shoe hit something hard and it clanged as it bounced off the rocky wall. Arthur bent, and, reaching out in the darkness, found a small brass pot. He lifted it up to his eyes, straining to make it out in the darkness. It was dirty, covered in a thick layer of dust that his fingers had left patterns in where he had touched it. It was clear it hadn't been used in a long time…But from what Arthur had seen, Balinor had never let his things obtain a layer of dust - he had always been making sure they were in good working condition.

"MERLIN? BALINOR?" he called into the silence, again and again, his voice raising each time until he was screaming into the darkness, his heart sinking into his stomach as the silence stretched on with no reply. "Merlin?" he finally whispered, voice hoarse, terrified of what had become of his friend.

Nothing, just an eerie, endless silence that pressed up against him in the darkness, until the weight of it forced a sob out of his lungs.

The cave was empty. Merlin was gone.

Two years later, Arthur Pendragon jerked upright in bed, eyes wide, running a hand through his short hair, the memory of the empty cave still playing vividly in his mind.

 _Okay, there should be another chapter coming soonish._

 _Reviews are awesome. Please review. (They also motivate me to write more quickly)_


	2. Chapter 2

_And here we have chapter two! (Sorry for the wait on Defender - I have complete writer's block on that story at the moment, but I'm working on it)._

 _Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin_

It was Gwen who finally found Arthur at the top of one of the towers, staring out over Camelot, but not really seeing it. She approached him quietly, stopping a few meters away and coughing softly to announce her presence. Arthur didn't turn around. Gwen joined him at the wall, and looked out to appreciate the view for a few seconds before turning to him.

"Your father is looking for you, Arthur. He's about to leave." Uther would be traveling to a neighboring kingdom in the hopes of forming a treaty with them. This was common knowledge within the castle, and Gwen knew that the king wanted to say farewell to his son, who would be ruling in his absence.

Finally, Arthur turned to her with the slight, sad smile he often wore. Gwen studied his face, frowning inwardly. Arthur had changed in the years since he went missing. He openly defied his father's opinions of magic, but it went deeper than that. Arthur had been a bully before he had disappeared. He had tormented those below him for fun. But after returning, Arthur had been a completely different person. Confident, yes, but he no longer gloated when he won a fight. He didn't start arguments for the fun of it. He was quieter, more subdued - on the outside that was. Whatever had happened to him in his few weeks in the forest - the castle workers had only heard the bare details in the castle, Arthur had refused to tell them more than that - had changed him as a person.

"Thank you, Gwen," said Arthur softly. He made no move to go, but turned his face back to the view.

"What were you thinking about? You looked a hundred miles away," said Gwen. Then, realizing that her question probably wouldn't be considered proper of someone of her position, she blushed pink and looked at her toes. "I'm sorry, sire."

"It's fine, Gwen. Really," said Arthur, and Gwen glanced up to see him offering her a small smile. "I was just thinking about…Merlin."

"Again, Arthur?" asked Gwen softly. Arthur sighed heavily and nodded, leaning back against the stone wall.

"I dreamt about the cave last night," he said softly, not meeting her gaze.

"If you're having nightmares, I could ask Gaius for–" she offered, only to be cut off.

"I don't need Gaius," he cut in sharply, before his voice softened slightly. "I'm fine, really Gwen." He sighed again, scuffing the toe of his boot on the stone floor as Gwen waited for him to continue. "It wasn't a nightmare. It was a memory."

"Of Merlin?" asked Gwen, who was one of the few people who'd gotten more or less the whole story of what had happened to Arthur over the years that followed. "Or Balinor? Or both?"

"Both. Neither. _I don't know,_ " Arthur said, tiredly running a hand through his hair. "I was remembering when I went back to the cave to find them. I promised Merlin I would come back. I _promised_ him. And he swore he'd wait. But I went back there, to their cave, and they were _gone_. I-I don't know what happened to them. _I don't know._ " He stopped, breathing rapidly for a few seconds, avoiding her eyes, before continuing softly. _"_ Maybe, if I knew for _sure_ that they'd moved, or if they'd died, I'd be happier… Just to _know_ would be so so much better than… than _this_."

"There's nothing you can do, Arthur," whispered Gwen. "You promised to go back, and you _did._ That's all you could've done."

"But if I'd gone back _earlier–_ "

"Arthur, listen to me," said Gwen, moving closer to look him in the eye. "You can't change the past. But please, _please_ , know that you did _everything_ that you could. There was no way to know that they wouldn't be there. You couldn't have known."

Arthur nodded, not meeting her eyes.

"Maybe they just had to move to another place," offered Gwen after a few minutes of silence. "They practiced magic, after all - it can't have been easy for them to settle down anywhere. Maybe they couldn't leave you any message as to where they had gone."

"Maybe," Arthur agreed half-heartedly. Gwen placed a hand on his arm.

"Arthur, from what you've told me of Merlin, he would move heaven and earth to make good on his promise. If he is out there, he will find you, and _you will find him_."

Arthur glanced at her. "You really think that?"

Gwen smiled. "I really do." Then, remembering why she had come up here in the first place, she told him, "You had better get downstairs. Your father was getting worried about your absence."

"Of course he wasn't," said Arthur dismissively, but he led the way down all the same.

Later that day, Arthur found himself at the door of Morgana's chambers. He knocked, waiting for her to call him in before entering. She was seated at the window, looking out the window to the courtyard, her face half-turned away from him. She looked up as he entered, eyes wide and slightly panicked. "How are you, Morgana?" he asked. She glared at him, dark circles under her eyes indicating a lack of sleep. She didn't answer. "Morgana?" he pressed. "You look sick. You haven't been yourself lately."

"It's all these executions He's been doing," said Morgana, her voice catching ever-so-slightly in her throat. There was no need for her to explain that by He, she meant Uther. "All those people he's condemned."

"I don't like it either," said Arthur slowly. "You know that I don't. I've been opposing his decisions at every turn."

Morgana folded shaking hands in her lap, staring down at them. Arthur walked swiftly over to her and knelt down before her. "Morgana," he said gently. "You know that I don't approve of what he's doing. You _know_ that."

"What if magic isn't something you choose?" she asked shakily. " _What if it chooses you?_ " Arthur frowned slightly. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then stood up and walked to the door. He saw Morgana stiffen out of the corner of his eye and knew she thought he was going to leave. Instead, he shut the door carefully, took her by the hand, and led her over to sit on the bed.

"Tell me," he said finally.

After she started, it was hard to get her to stop. Her fears and nightmares, the strange things that kept happening around her, all of it, came spilling out of her mouth until she was crying and leaning against him, and he had an arm wrapped around her, a position they hadn't been in for years. Arthur murmured soothing words into her ear, feeling so very small inside. He knew that there was nothing he could say or do to fix her problem. All he could do was be there for her.

"You don't have to be afraid, Morgana," he told her softly. "I won't let him hurt you."

"He's going to kill me!" whispered Morgana in terror. "If he finds out–"

"He _won't_ ," Arthur told her forcefully. "I won't let him. I swear it. I will protect you 'till my dying breath, Morgana. Magic isn't evil. _You_ aren't evil. You're a good person."

A few tears slid down Morgana's cheeks, and she buried her face in Arthur's shirt.

"I swear," Arthur repeated, his voice a bare whisper.

 _Reviews are awesome! (seriously, they really motivate me to write more)_


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